Mad-eye Harry
by IAmAFantasyFan
Summary: Head Auror Potter, battle worn and troubled, is sent back to 1976 for a vacation. He is to become Defense professor for his parents, who are currently in 6th year. When he is there, he finds James potter not the hero that he had imagined. And James thinks his new professor is very creepy. Meanwhile, a bet is going on between Sirius and Remus to count their new professor's scars


**Obvoiusly, I own nothing. But don't steal it anyway! Oh, and please don't kill me for starting _another_ story. I'll finish the others, I promise! **

**Chapter one**

Twenty five year old Harry Potter looked ruefully at himself in the mirror. _How ever did Mad-eye Moody make it to old age before looking like this?_ He thought, feeling newfound respect for the old grizzled Auror. After defeating Voldemort at 17, Harry had immediately joined the Aurors and helped them track down the rest of the death eaters. They had finally captured the last one – Goyle – the night before, and Harry was very much looking the worse for the wear. Harry ran his hand down his wooden leg, the missing body part he figured he had most in common with Moody. After all, at least Mad-eye had a nose. That was uncomfortably similar to Voldemort.

Harry was startled from his musings when a knock sounded at the door, and moments later an impatient Draco Malfoy walked in.

"Potter." He said, and looked Harry up and down. "You seem to be doing well with your life." Harry growled. Malfoy had gotten off the hook, though Harry had tried all he could to land him in Azkaban. _Yet another similarity to Moody._ He realized, and almost laughed. Maybe he was Mad-eye reincarnate. Only a few more years and he would be an old loaner like him too. Now Draco was head of the department of Magical Games, and only his past kept him from pursuing a higher posistion in politics. Harry wondered how on earth he had managed to make himself seem decent enough to get that far.

"Needed something, Malfoy?" He asked curtly, turning his back on the blond aristrocrat and walking over to his desk.

"Of course not, what could you ever give me? I could tell you a few things _you_ need, though."

"Like what?" Harry chalenged. He was the bloody head of Aurors! What did he need from a politician?

"Like a vacation. Honestly, you look much worse than Moody. Oh, and a new wife. No one will take you?" Harry huffed. At least he wasn't jumping at his own shadow and hexing everyone who walked up to him . . . yet. And lots of people wanted to marry him. Hopefully. It would be rather insulting if no one did. "Probably not. Anyway, Weasley wants to see you." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Playing bellboy now, are you Malfoy?" He drawled. "My, but you _have_ advanced in life." Draco waved a hand dismissivly.

"It's quite urgent, and much too top secret for anyone less trustworthy." Harry snorted. "And it involves the unspeakables. You must go _now_."

"All right, all right. I'm going. Couldn't have waited for a better time though, could they? I've been chasing Goyle for 38 hours. I am at a loss as to how an intellegent death eater like him could have fathered a half-wit." Malfoy tapped a foot impatiantly, and Harry sighed and followed him out the door of his office. An Auror's work was never done, but what he wouldn't give for a vacation! You'd think him being the saviour of the wizarding world and all would give him a few benefits, rather than more work.

OoOoO

"Come in!" A voice called, and Harry opened the door of Percy Weasley's office. Three unspeakables sat on one side of the room, as well as Percy who was reclining behind a huge pile of paperwork.

"How's the minister?" He asked.

"I'm doing just fine." Percy said. "I hear that you finally caught Goyle. Congradulations."

"Thank you." Harry said. "What did you need?"

"Ah, yes." Percy straightened, and began to look rather excited. "The unspeakables have made an amazing breakthrough in time magic, and have a proposistion for you. It really is quite brilliant. Gentlemen? Please, take it away." A dark haired Unspeakable stood up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter," he began, "we were wondering if we could have your autograph?"

Harry blinked. "What?" The Unspeakable laughed.

"Sorry, it was too good of a chance to miss. Anyway, I'll put this very bluntly: we have discovered a way to send someone back in time, and are hoping that you can make do without one of your Aurors. It does work – we can assure you that – as an auror did come to the past for a year twenty nine years ago." It took Harry a moment to process this information, but then he grinned.

"I'm sure I can spare an Auror. Who did I send back?" The Man grinned.

"You." Again, Harry needed a few moments to accept it. Then he sighed.

"Look at me! Not only am I head of the Aurors, and therefore have no free time, but I am hardly in the physical condition to attempt a mission such as that. My injuries tend to make me stand out. Hardly a thing you want when time-travelling. Also, I was hoping that I could finally have a vacation now that the death-eaters are all gone."

"Actually Harry," Percy broke in, "I think it would be just the job for you! You can have your vacation, and you wouldn't always stand out as the saviour of the wizarding world. You were telling George recently how much that bothers you, right?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "Mum and Dad also agree. You really haven't recovered from _their_ deaths, Harry, and a year away from all of this could be just the thing that you need. When's the last time you smiled?"

"Does everybody know about this except for me?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated. He ignored the last question.

"Harry, Mum thinks you should go. And when Mother decides something, we all know that you're not going to be left alone when you agree. I've packed you're bag, you can leave right now." Harry stood up and began to pace, a habit that he still hadn't given up inspite of his missing leg.

"You want your head Auror to dissapear off the face of the earth for a year?" He growled. "Minister, I assure you that this is a very bad idea." He whirled around and glared at Percy. "The Death eaters may be gone, but you never know when another Dark Lord will rise. My being gone will only prompt such an event. As a wise man once said, _constant viligance_!"

"Robards has agreed to be head Auror again for one more year. He's had plenty of experience." Another of the Unspeakables spoke up. "You agree to go eventually, Harry Potter, so why not just go now?"

"Fine." Harry snapped. "I will go laze around in the past for a year, and we'll see how you do without me. For your sake, I hope nothing happens. But it will."

"Here." The first Unspeakable handed Harry an object. "This is something like a portkey. It activates at seven tonight. Oh, and you are going to be the DADA professor." Harry glared at him.

"I thought you said this was going to be a vacation!"

OoOoO

A dark shape ducked through Diagon Alley, and limped over to the apperation area. Moments later, the figure appeared in the graveyard of Otter St. Catchpole. With a sigh of relief Harry lowered the hood of his cloak and glanced around once more. He was lucky that no one had noticed him. Surprisingly enough, his 'new' appearance seemed to help matters. Apperantly people couldn't accept that their hero was now rather ugly. Harry looked at his watch. Six o'clock. He had an hour left to visit his family. Harry walked (or rather, limped) down the row of gravestones until he reached two that stood on their own on the edge of the graveyard. Looking at the inscriptions, Harry felt again a pang of hopelessness and longing.

_Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter_

_August 11, 1981 – December 5, 2000_

_Mother, Sister, Wife, Daughter, Hero_

_She lived and died bravely. Every shall we remember her courage._

The first one said. The second,

_James Sirius Potter_

_November 21, 200 – December 5, 200_

_Beloved son._

_He will forever remain in his mother's arms._

Harry hated those stones, hated them with a passion. He had seen too many like that, his life had more tombstones than any reasonable person's. Harry sighed, and conjured a wreath of roses onto Ginny's grave, and then a cluster of Dandylions onto James'. Somehow it seemed fitting. Harry turned away, somewhat glad to go back to a time when those graves did not exist. He had one more stop before he had to leave the graveyard. Harry reluctantly walked over to one larger marble plaque under a maple tree.

_Hermione Jean Granger Weasley (September 19, 1979 – April 5, 2002)_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley (1 March, 1980 – April 9, 2002)_

_They were friends to many, heros to all._

Harry tried to smile a little at it, but he couldn't. Harry hadn't smiled at all since Gin's and James' death, and he honestly wasn't sure if he was able anymore.

"I guess I'll see you two later." He said gruffly, tears choking his throat, and limped away. Harry still found it sad that he could cry over his two best friends, but not his wife and son. Only one more stop – his parent's graves – and then he was ready to go. Personal possessions he didn't need.

OoOoO

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, sucking on a lemon drop. Contrary to popular belief, he had not drugged them and actually found the sweets quite delicious. He was thinking about a very big problem that he had. He lacked a defense professor, and term started the next day. Of course, if worse came to worse he supposed he could teach it himself, but that really wasn't something he wanted to do. Headmaster duties and all that. He mentally went through a list of all the students that had passed the course with at least an 'A' in the last fifty years. _Dead, fighting, dead, dying; working, dead, fighting, refused, dead..._ Unfortunatly most of the eligible witches and wizards were fully involved in the war against Voldemort. Perhaps one of this year's graduates could teach next year, though the only fully qualified teacher was his sixth year Severus Snape. And he was probably a death eater. That was the problem with the Defense job. All the people who were good at it seemed to think that meant that they should go fight in the war. Which was good, of course, except then they all died and there was no one left to teach.

Suddenly, quite suddenly, James Potter appeared in his office. _What? There are anti-apparaton wards._

"Dumbledore." James said, and Albus realized that it was not James Potter at all, but some one else. Someone noticably battle-worn.

"Hello. Who are you?" The man certainly looked like James, if you took away the grey-streaked hair, the wooden leg, the missing nose and ear, and the countless scars.

"Harry Potter." He said. "I've come to apply for the Defense against the Dark Arts job." Dumbledore was shocked.

"Harry Potter?" The other wizard's lip twisted upwards in what really could not be called a smile.

"The one and only." He said.

"I've not heard of a Harry Potter."

"I've come from the future." Harry Potter said. "It was thought that I needed a vacation."

Albus's eyes twinkled. Judging from Harry's appearance, he quite agreed. "Are you qualified for the job?"

"I think I may be. I graduated my NEWTs defense with honors, killed a dark wizard at seventeen, and have been head of Aurors for about six years." Now Albus was thrilled.

"Very well, just put on the hat and it will tell me if you are a good choice." He passed the sorting hat to Harry, who put it on his head. Almost immediately, the hat said

"He's perfect, Dumbledore, perfect! Do not let him go!" Harry laughed from under the hat, and took it off.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Potter. Just so you know, the year is 1976."


End file.
